A Night to Remember
by Anzhela D Asura
Summary: When Natasha and Clint get unfortunately drunk, they wake up in Budapest with no memories of the Night before. But they're soon to discover that perhaps two Drunk Assassins aren't the most sensible people in the world... VERY SLIGHT BLACKEYE. R


**A Night to Remember**

**Rating: T for swearing and... references.**

**Disclaimer: I AM NOT STAN LEE, NOR AM I JOSS WHEDON. IF I WAS I WOULD BE RICH AS HELL AND... MALE.**

**Summary: When Natasha and Clint get unfortunately drunk, they wake up in Budapest with no memories of the Night before. But they're soon to discover that perhaps two Drunk Assassins aren't the most sensible people in the world...**

**A/N: Sorry for not uploading this sooner, or updating my other fic. This is based on the line in the climax of the Avengers about Budapest, and I wondered what had happened.**

**It is kind of similar to the Skyrim quest 'A Night To Remember', so I named it accordingly. Hope you enjoy :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))**

_March 31st 2009, London England_

Clint strolled down the street, sneaking glances at Natasha.

It was a dull morning, but then again, they _were_ in England so it was only to be expected. At least it wasn't raining.

Clint paused as a drop of icy water slid down his abnormally large nose. _Whoops, I think I spoke too soon_ Clint thought grimly, rubbing the water off, _either that or God just hates me_. Probably the latter, considering his occupation.

His mood was considerably brighter when he reached into a pocket and found a twenty pound note that he couldn't ever remember putting there. He and Natasha had been allotted a few hundred English sterling to book a hotel in the Local area of their targets.

To their knowledge, their targets were a middle-aged Italian couple who had hacked into SHIELD, but had given up because they couldn't understand a word of it. Obviously they had not heard of Google Translate.

This was only one of their many crimes, and Fury had finally drawn the line and sent his best pair of agents to 'put them out of commission'.

"Hey 'Tasha, look what I found." he boasted proudly producing the money in question. Natasha stared coolly at him making his heart beat faster before replying.

"Amazing" she said sarcastically before adding "Let's go to the bar and have a drink."

She walked off without glancing back guessing that Clint would be trailing along behind her... which he was.

*AA*AA*AA*

Clint woke up with a pounding headache that morning. It was even worse than that hangover that he had got when he got a little drunk and proposed to Natasha with a Haribo ring. He had woken up the following morning with a broken nose and a crushed ego.

He groaned and blinked wearily, wondering why it was so hot.

But apart from his headache, it was a fine morning, the air smelled fresh and the tropical birds chi- wait... _what?!_

He shot out of bed, but was restrained by Natasha's arm. Trying to ignore her mutter of 'teddy bear' he pinched himself, hard.

He regretted this when he felt a sharp pain on his wrist, which he lifted up to see bloody crescent shaped wounds.

He raised a hand to see five perfectly manicured fake nails stuck to his fingers.

What... the... fuck.

He tried to rip them off, but they were glued tightly on. Beginning to panic, he examined his arms and found, to his horror, a henna tattoo of a heart with his and Natasha's name inside.

_Oh God_ he thought wildly _'Tasha's gonna murder me._

Only now did he realise that he was in a luxury hotel room, and that the bed that he and Natasha had been occupying was... filled with more than one person.

On the other side of 'Tasha, two middle-aged people were snuggled up together, and Clint noticed that they were none other than their targets. He had slept with his targets.

He ran to the window, looking for an escape route and ripped the curtains apart. Then he stopped... and stared.

The busy streets outside were bustling with laughing men, women and children, and the local market was open.

Then he looked at the signpost.

It read _'_Üdvözöljük Budapesten'_._

Welcome to Budapest.

_Oh Shit._

*AA*AA*AA*

Natasha woke up to find someone peering over at her. By her instincts that had been forcibly embedded in her she reached up and hit them as hard as she could in the nose.

The attacker was obviously not someone she knew, they had a black curly moustache and bright pink hair. So obviously it was to her utmost surprise when the intruder started swearing in Clint's voice.

"Shit, Shit Shit SHIT!"the person gasped as he.. or she, it was kind of difficult to tell as they had the features of a man but was wearing a bin-bag dress, tried to stop the flow of blood pouring from their nose.

"God 'Tasha. What the hell." he, the voice was obviously masculine, exclaimed loudly.

"_Clint?_" She asked, aghast, "What the hell happened to you?"

"You mean the tattoos? Or the nails?" He asked sarcastically, rubbing his arm self-consciously and holding a sodden tissue to stem the flow of blood to his nose with the other hand.

"No, I mean the hair, and the moustache," she told him gaping at his bright pink hair and the curly moustache drawn on his face with something that looked suspiciously like permanent marker.

"Moustache?" He questioned, "And what's wrong with my hair?" he asked, running a hand through it.

"Its pink," Clint looked at her sceptically, "No really it is!"

She rolled out of the bed, but was halted by Clint's scream of horror.

"You talk about _my _hair? What about yours! And you're wearing... a wetsuit,"

"A wetsuit?" She half-screamed, "Well I suppose that's better then your _bin-bag_!" she retorted angrily.

"Well I suppose you think that's better than having no hair?" he snapped back.

"WHAT? I HAVE A FULL HEAD OF HAIR THANK YOU VERY MUCH" she shouted as she ran her hands through the front of her hair. She reached the back and found her hand touching her bare scalp.

Horrified she realised that the back half of her hair had been shaven off.

"Okay, we need to calm down and take the situation into consideration." he hastily said as he saw the look on Natasha's face. "This is the sort of thing that we have been trained for...well...kind of."

She took a few deep breaths and glanced around the room, taking in their surroundings for that first time.

First she noticed the Haribo Gummy Bears stuck on the ceiling, hundreds of them, and they didn't look old. Secondly she saw a broken radiator leaning against the wall with no indication as to when or how it got there. Then there was the terrified sea gull that seemed to be tied on some kind of leash to the cupboard.

There was also a teddy bear's picnic occurring on the floor with at least twenty plush bears sitting in a circle along with dirty coffee mugs.

Behind the picnic, there were over a hundred other coffee mugs that had been arranged in a large pyramid.

Strewn about the floor were a collection of battery cells, bicycle pumps and a large FOR SALE sign.

"What... The Hell?" She asked, staring around at the assorted items, apparently random.

Clint's expression mirrored hers and their jaws dropped simultaneously as they took in their new surroundings.

"Oh _that's _not the worst of it 'Tasha," he told her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her to the window.

She didn't know much Hungarian, but the sign was clear enough. She felt more confused then she had ever felt in her life and judging by Clint's expression, he felt the same way.

"Oh and I think you should know..." Clint began, gesturing helplessly at the bed, which she had not taken much notice of previously.

She approached it warily like a hunter stalking prey, moving closer until she could see their targets nestled in the thick duvet.

Natasha now felt that she wanted to throw up, laugh hysterically and cry at the same time, although that probably wasn't physically possible.

She glanced at Clint and couldn't help a snort of laughter emitting from her mouth as she saw such a grave expression on a man with a moustache drawn on his face, pink hair and wearing a bin-bag.

He glared at her, but it was hard to not giggle at the situation that they were in, especially as Natasha was wearing a wetsuit and had only half a head of hair.

"What happened though, seriously?" Clint asked, sobering up.

"You think they drugged us?" Natasha suggested, nudging the couple, who muttered something in Italian.

Clint shrugged, but something on Natasha's finger caught his eye. A Wedding ring, simple gold, but clearly situated on her fourth finger.

She followed his gaze to her hand and gasped as she saw the ring.

Assuming the worst – or quite possibly, best – Clint raised his own hand to see an Identical Wedding Ring.

"You don't think..." Natasha trailed off, not wanting to finish her sentence, but Clint knew exactly what she meant.

Clint opened his mouth to reply – or perhaps scream – but the Targets chose that moment to arouse.

The man let out a long groan and slowly pulled himself into an upright position on the bed.

"Buongiorno," he greeted, seemingly at ease at the state of the room and the assassins.

"Eh, scusi? ...Chi sei?" Natasha asked politely in what little Italian she knew, although 'who are you' wasn't the best question, since they had both read the man's file and been fully briefed.

The man smiled, a little unsure like he thought they were probably joking, but couldn't be certain.

"Me? Sono tuo marito," he smiled, but then corrected himself, "O saro."

Natasha had only learned the basics of Italian, but she was fairly sure that 'marito' meant spouse, and since it was masculine, in this case it would be husband.

And she was also certain that 'sono' was I. The words _I _and _husband _did not go down well for her, especially since the speaker a) was a hacker and b) spoke next to no English.

Clint, who had paid less attention to learning languages was confused by Natasha's growing look of horror, but before he could ask her what was wrong, the woman finally awakened, smiling contentedly at the pair of assassins and her spouse.

"Er... does anyone mind telling me what on Earth is happening?" Clint asked cautiously. The couple looked at him weirdly and explained in a mixture of languages that they didn't speak English.

Of course they didn't. Clint glanced at Natasha, wondering if things could get any worse.

"Make a run for it?" he suggested, speaking fast so the couple didn't understand, but the woman took that moment to stroll in front of the bedroom door, blocking their only escape route barring the window (which was _not_ a good idea – when Clint had previously tried the window escape, he had been quick to learn why he was known as 'Hawkeye' rather that 'Hawkwing' which was a lame name anyway).

Something glinted on the hand on the woman as the sun shone into the room. With a close inspection, Clint could see that it was none other than the same Wedding Ring that he and Natasha were wearing.

He swung his head to look at the man, and sure enough, an identical ring gleamed on his finger too.

_Oh no_, Clint though desperately, _I think we just got engaged in a foursome._

He moved to nudge Natasha, but her look of shock mimicked his own and she was staring, eyes glazed at the man's wedding ring.

She looked up at Clint, and they both nodded. It was time to get out of here.

Screw their mission, it was in enough of a mess already. What they needed to do now was get back to the hellicarrier and forget this hellish mission.

As the woman moved out of the way, Natasha mouthed a count down and at one, they both rushed towards the door.

Sadly, they were in a state of shock and wildly dis-orientated, so it didn't occur to them that they might need to _open _the door before running flat on into it.

As it was, they both ended flat on their backs, blinking away stars.

A second later, two concerned faces appeared above them and pulled them to their feet, seemingly caring.

Natasha snorted with laughter at Barton's bewildered expression as he tried to figure out what had gone wrong with their escape plan.

"Stai bene?" the woman asked, warm grey eyes filled with shock and concern.

"Sí, sí," Natasha muttered distractedly.

To make matters worse, Clint seemed to be tangled up in his bin-bag, and the man was getting rather... intimate while repositioning it.

Clint himself was on the verge of screaming 'SEXUAL HARRASSMENT!' and running away squealing, but when he opened his mouth, all that could come out was gasps.

He gave his best puppy dog eyes expression to Natasha and she rolled her eyes, but started talking to the man in rough Italian.

"Scusi, questo èn un... malineso. Mio fratello, Clint è molto timido," she tried, and the man released Clint.

Shuddering, Clint ran over to Natasha, who made the same decision that she did.

She ripped open the door, and they sprinted out, trying not to trip over their own feet.

Both of them practically tumbled down the stairs, missing steps in order to escape from the crazy hackers of whom they seemed to be unfortunately engaged. Clint made a mental note to never get drunk in public EVER again.

When they finally entered the lobby, the room was a complete mess.

Rubble covered the sleek flooring and debris was everywhere. The cause: a huge van crashed halfway through the lobby wall.

A young man who looked like a local was sleeping in a sleeping bag just next to the counter, but he woke as they clattered down the stairs and scuttled over to them.

"Reggelt Uram, Asszonyom. Morning Sir, Ma'am," he said, switching to English when he saw their confused expressions.

"Who are you? What happened?" Natasha asked, not even bothering to try to speak Hungarian.

The man glanced at her curiously. "You don't remember? Well, you were very drunk at the time. You... you crashed your van into my hotel," he explained, gesturing at the wreckage, "but when I tried to call the police, you bought the hotel."

Clint and Natasha's jaws dropped in absolute synchronisation.

"We... bought... a hotel?" Clint spluttered, nonplussed.

The hotel manager- or that's what they assumed he was, nodded his head mildly.

"You gave me a cheque of Ten Million US Dollars, I believe, under the name of 'Fury'," he told them, and Clint at this moment almost started hyperventilating.

If they had ever run afoul of the law, they could pay their fines with a collaborative SHIELD account, and Clint was fairly certain that ten Million was more or less the exact amount that the account had remaining.

To put it simply, _this was not good_.

The pair of assassins were too shocked to do anything except numbly walk toward the hotel entrance, and squeeze through into the outside world, completely forgetting the dishevelled and alarming state they were in.

They walked down the road, ignoring the stares that they were getting by the bustling crowds that were mostly trying to get closer to the wreckage,

They had walked half-way down the road when Clint suddenly noticed that every street lamp along the road was broken, with an arrow sticking into the light. He was then struck with an epiphany.

"'Tasha! CCTV! The hotel's gotta have CCTV and we can watch it back so we can see what happened!" Natasha seemed more sceptical of this idea, pointing out that there wasn't much point watching it back just to see them crash a van into an expensive hotel, but she came over eventually.

Self-consciously rubbing her bald spot, Natasha led Clint back into the hotel lobby, and began to hack into the security software, which she did, easily.

If they had gone to the bar in England at four o'clock, it must have taken a while to get a Russian spy drunk, then the plane to Budapest, meaning that it had been in the early hours of the morning, most likely.

She found it eventually, at 5:36am, a huge van smashed into the lobby, and by what she could see, Natasha herself was sitting in the drivers seat, grinning ecstatically to herself.

A few seconds later, the footage showed them getting out of the van, along with the hacker couple, and stumbling outside.

Suddenly, Natasha was hit with a flashback, so hard she recoiled.

_5:37am, Budapest, Hungary_

_Natasha stumbled drunkly around, holding onto Clint's arm and dragging him down the street._

"_Hawkie, I'm Borrrreeeeddd..." she moaned, pouting._

_Clint was too busy watching the rainbow unicorns flying in circles around his head to pay any attention whatsoever to Natasha, but suddenly, her grip tightened._

"_Birdie? Clint,the lampposts. They're... they're staring at me!" Natasha sobbed fearfully._

_Clint, ever the gentleman, pulled up a bow and a quiver of arrows from God knows where and began to fire them happily at the offending lampposts._

"_Thank you! My hero!" She planted a drunken kiss on his cheek._

_Clint smiled, the moustache pulling taught, but then his expression turned to one of distraught as he pulled out a goldfish out of somewhere that a goldfish probably wouldn't like to be._

"_Jim! He's... he's dead!" Clint explained, flapping the obviously deceased fish around._

"_Jim the fish is dead? Oh no, what do we do now?"Natasha exclaimed, tears running down her face._

"_We have to do CPR! Oh no,wait, that won't work, he's a fish. We have to send him to Fury, and then Fury will be able to save him!"_

Natasha gasped as her eyes shot open again.

Clint flinched as well next to her, so she assumed that the video had also triggered him to remember as well.

"What the Hell?" he wondered aloud, "Did that actually happen?"

Natasha shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"Did we... did we actually send Fury a dead fish named Jim?" Clint asked, a smirk creeping up onto his face.

Natasha let out a snort of laughter before sobering. "I think we should call Fury."

*AA*AA*AA*

"Hello?" Natasha asked. The line on the other side of the phone was silent.

"This is Agent Black Widow reporting in with Agent Hawkeye, regarding mission 11Z9B phase 4. Activate code 198, emergency," she said coolly into the device.

"Agent Romanov, I was wondering when you might contact me," Fury replied.

"Ehm, yes. You see-"

"What?"

"Um...we might have had a small problem with our mission..."

"Please elaborate Agent,"

"Well...I think we should explain in person"

"Okay, take the first flight from England to America"

"About that...we're kind of in Hungary."

" What?" Fury said, the most surprised Natasha had ever heard him sound which was something because he had seen the President of the USA belly-dancing. "Just get the next flight back and we'll discuss this. There is also another serious matter that we need to talk about, I believe that I have been sent a death threat."

"A death threat?" Clint exclaimed, overhearing, although to be quite honest there were quite a few people who'd enjoy murdering Fury, himself included.

"Yes, but I'm more worried about how they received SHIELD contact details. Although one could wonder why the death threat appeared to be in the form of a dead fish, a fake moustache and a red-haired wig," Fury explained.

Natasha and Clint looked at each other with expressions between shock, hilarity and fear.

"Did the envelope... did anything mention the name 'Jim' by any chance?" Natasha asked.

"Now you ask about it, there was a note, barely readable that mentioned something about 'saving Jim'. I don't suppose you know anything about it..."

Clint coughed. "Um... well I think we might be able to explain that..."

*AA*AA*AA*

Clint and Natasha started to walk towards the airport where Fury had booked them a direct flight to America. On the way they passed a big official building that had been covered in graffiti.

Clint vaguely recognised the building and was suddenly hit with another flashback.

_4.28am Budapest, Hungary_

_He and Natasha were staggering towards the building. They went over and tried to open the door. It swung open easily. Clint frowned at the door like he wanted to tell it off and said "Don't be nasty Mr. door, why are you bullying me?" and burst into tears. _

_Natasha tried to pat him on the back but accidentally elbowed him in the head. She then tried to kiss his head better but ended up tripping over his feet. _

"_I'm thirsty," Clint whined like a four year old, "Can we get some coffee?"_

_The sensible, sober part of Natasha said that combining Hyper, Drunk Clint and Caffeine was not good, but unfortunately, that part was shouted down by the rest of her._

"_Okay, I'm sure this big building will have some Coffee!" she announced, then tried to open the door but accidentally whacking her head on the door frame instead which then caused her to fall over again. She stood back up again and walked straight into the door._

"_That will never work 'Tashie the door has been destined to defeat us ever since it first existed." Clint said grinning maniacally. He then started to climb up the side of the building. "Follow me 'Tasha, we will get our coffee" he giggled._

_*AA*AA*AA*_

_Imre Nagy had just completed a hard day at work, sorting through paper work and handling enquiries. _

_He had never imagined that he would be a banker when he was a kid, as maths was never his strong point, but the manager had given him a job there when he was only nineteen._

_He was gathering up a sheaf of papers and marching out of the building when a large bang erupted through the building, and with it, an excited scream that could belong to a seven-year-old. _

_Imre turned just in time to see a sooty man zooming out of the fireplace (**A/N: Yeah, who the hell puts a fireplace in a Bank. Well... me!) **and land on the expensive sleek flooring._

_The man seemed to be wearing a black bin-bag, and pink flakes stood out in his soot-covered hair. There also appeared to be a fake-looking moustache on his face._

_He stood up drunkenly and looked around with a ecstatic expression on his face._

"_Coffee. COFFFFEEEEEEEE!" The man shouted, pulling a- water pistol?- from his belt and waving it at the confused bankers._

"_Uh..." the manager did speak English but it was hard to understand the man's drunken rant._

_Another loud bang echoed through the building as a second body came flying out of the chimney. This person was definitely female although half of their hair seemed to be cut off and was wearing a wetsuit. She stood up._

"_Please could we have some coffee?" She asked politely as she stood up and took out two machine guns. Imre involuntarily stepped backwards as his manager called out for some coffee to be brought over._

_It was amazing how much coffee the two strangers could drink. They managed about 50 cups each before they started to slow down. The one with the machine guns looked surprised when she realised that every one was still watching them._

"_Thank you, we'll be going now!" She announced, and started gathering up every single teacup in the room in the man's bin-bag dress. "There isn't enough room in there. Take it off." she ordered him._

_Imre looked very apprehensive as the man happily started to remove the garment as it seemed his only item of clothing. Luckily the man was wearing some shorts, although sadly he wasn't wearing a shirt._

_They proceeded to pile the teacups into the bin-bag._

Clint staggered backwards in shock after the latest flashback.

"We _raided _a _bank?" _Clint asked, aghast, "To get _coffee?!"_

Natasha seemed to be flushed bright red, probably recalling the fact that she had asked Clint to _take his clothes off._

"Fury is gonna _kill _us!" Clint moaned, face-palming.

*AA*AA*AA*

They had finally almost gotten to the airport, when Clint spotted a toy store with the windows smashed up and missing almost every product.

"That can't be a coincidence," Clint muttered tiredly.

"Come on, we'd better check what we did _this _time, unless we're gonna have _another _flashback," Natasha said, walking over to a group of police talking to a old man who they guessed was the shopkeeper.

"Uram! Az öket!" the man shouted, pointing at Clint and Natasha.

The pair glanced at each other, worst thoughts confirmed.

"I'm sorry, sir. Do you speak English?" Natasha asked calmly, taking control of the situation, just like old times.

The man nodded warily, but the police warned him to stay back- in Hungarian of course.

Natasha produced a SHIELD ID from somewhere that Clint really didn't want to think about- or maybe he did...

The man examined it, and the police snatched it away from her hand to scan it for forgery.

She waited until they had finished, then:

"I apologise if we caused much harm last night. We were under the influence of a drug that our targets slipped into our food called... Clint what was it called?" Natasha explained, then looked at Clint desperately.

He mouthed a question at Natasha, but she was remarkably good at completely ignoring him.

"Yeah, it was... blue... Smarties!" Clint announced, trying to back up his words with confidence.

The shopkeeper had an award winning WTF look by now, and seemed to accept their story.

"You crashed into my store with a... van? Then you girl came and stole the Teddy Bear's while the man tried to pull my heater... the radiator off the wall with an axe."

"Whoops," Clint muttered, remembering the wreckage of the heater and the bear's picnic.

"You also took the batteries from my Bears and my son's pump, his bicycle pump."

Natasha also recalled these items being among the many scattered throughout the room.

They then approached the police men.

"I apologise for the nuisance we have caused in this city. Our organisation will pay for any properties we have destroyed and all the damage."

"So, this will be the hotel, uh, the museum, the bank, the candy store, the pet store, the house, the toy store and the car dealer," The policeman rattled off smiling slightly.

"I'm never getting drunk again."

*AA*AA*AA*

Clint and Natasha waited patiently at the airport for the plane to arrive. They were watching the big TV in the check-in area to see if any of their actions from last night had been reported. Luckily the only main news was that a big hotel had been bought last night.

Suddenly the TV changed to an English broadcast dated for the previous evening.

"Welcome to BBC news at 10pm, we have just received news that a train was hijacked a few hours ago by an insane couple, who appeared to be sporting unusual attire," The woman paused as the screen cut to a picture of Clint and Natasha laughing crazily on the train roof. It then showed a film, taken from a grainy camera of Clint climbing down to the driver's seat and then throwing the driver out of the window.

Natasha then waved at the camera on screen, while current Natasha just stared at the screen in shock.

"Oh God, what have we done?"

"So were a couple now are we, well we are mar-" Clint was cut off when Natasha elbowed him hard in the face.

The final clip showed the pair _steering _the train _off the track_ and then driving it maniacally into the sea before Clint and Natasha started to kiss on camera.

"WTF?" Clint asked.

"Since when did you use slang?" Natasha retorted, still angry at the fact that she and Clint had kissed on camera.

"I'm going to watch that every day," Clint whispered so that Natasha wouldn't hear, while she buried her face in her hands to stop Clint from seeing the tomato colour she had turned.

"I've got to put this on Facebook," he said a bit louder forgetting that Natasha had very good hearing.

"If you even-!"

*AA*AA*AA*

Somehow, at the end of it all, they _still_ ended up in some desert in Egypt fighting off a shit-load of terrorists.

"We never _did _find out how we got that seagull there," Clint pondered, shooting yet another bad guy with an explosive arrow.

"I think, Clint, some things are just better unknown."

**THE END**

**A/N: Yeah, that's the end of the weirdest fanfic ever. This was written with my half-sister, but she's too young to have an account. I was thinking about putting in an extra bit where they explain everything to Fury and the Avengers, but this was two days late already! I **_**could **_**add an extra chappie with that in, if you guys want. Just review and tell me.**

**Sorry for not updating my **_**other **_**Avengers fic, I've had a load of work and stuff, but I'll post another chapter tomorrow, hopefully.**

**REVIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW WWWWWWWWWW!**

**HERECOMETHEDRUMS10 :D**


End file.
